Tocktamish pretended to be hurt.
'How can you think that I could take my old leader for a traitor, sir?' he asked.
'The idea would occur naturally to a man of your intelligence,' Zeno answered, laughing again. 'Listen to me, man. I am a soldier, and I do not take you for a flight of angels or heavenly doves settling round me for my consolation. You are an infernal deal more like a pack of wolves! So let us be plain, as wolves generally are when they are hungry. You joined me because you hoped to be plundering the palace by this time. As that has failed, you want something instead. You know very well that I am not the man to betray a comrade, and that if I am free I shall probably get Johannes out of his prison in the end. But you expect something now. How much do you want?'
The Tartar looked down sheepishly and passed his thumb round the lower edge of his corselet, backwards and forwards, as if he were slowly polishing the steel.
'Come,' continued Zeno, 'what is the use of hanging back? As I could not succeed in turning you all into patriots to-night and regenerators of your country, you have, of course, turned yourselves into bandits; you have got me a prisoner, and you want a ransom. How much is it to be?'
Tocktamish still hesitated, feeling very much ashamed of himself before his old captain.
'Well, sir, you see—there are eight hundred of us—and——'
'And if any one gets less than the rest he will sell all your skins to Andronicus for the balance,' laughed Zeno. 'Quite right, too! I love justice above all things.'
'Then give us ten ducats each,' cried the clear voice of a Greek from the background.
'Ten ducats apiece will make eight thousand,' said Zeno. 'I am sorry, but I have not so much money at my disposal.'